


No Love Like Your Love

by danythunder



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: First Time, M/M, No Betas We Fall Like Crowley, Shameless Smut, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wings, am I capable of writing a fic without wings?, light catholic guilt, mention of holding hands, the answer may surprise you: no, ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ two touch-starved idiots finally fuck and it's exactly what you'd expect
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-10-03 19:21:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20458175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danythunder/pseuds/danythunder
Summary: Aziraphale is the suave, self-assured one and Crowley is the anxiety-riddled, oblivious idiot. Well, kind of, but who's really keeping track of this stuff right? This is the one where 6000 years of mutual pining is acknowledged and absolved, alternatively titled "Aziraphale finally takes a bite of the apple."





	No Love Like Your Love

It continued as it had begun, with a garden and low-hanging fruit. In this particular instance, the low-hanging fruit was wearing impossibly tight black jeans and a grey shirt that looked like it was tossed into a screaming crowd at a concert. Knowing Crowley, it might have been. Aziraphale sighed as he forced his eyes back to the ducks in the lake, wondering what they knew of yearning.

Six thousand years of this and he was no closer to what he wanted than he was before the world hadn’t ended. Aziraphale had regretted every moment since the words _too fast_ had fallen from his lips, although he was still far too embarrassed to admit to Crowley how fast he wished they were going. The crushing guilt of an oversight committee that refused the greater pleasures of the body was a hard thing to shake, Aziraphale thought to himself, his traitorous eyes wandering back to the stripe of exposed skin at Crowley’s waistband.

Crowley stretched to lean across the arm of the park bench, probably unaware of the way his movement pulled the shirt further up his hip. Aziraphale had a fleeting thought of leaning over to nip at the exposed skin, how Crowley might yelp and buck his hips up. He pursed his lips and let the idea linger on for a moment longer than necessary. The silence between them was not unusual, in fact, they had both grown far more comfortable in one another’s presence since Armageddidn’t.

Aziraphale decided he would be the one to break the peaceful quiet, “Well, my dear, should we stay here or head off for a spot of lunch?” Crowley’s lips twisted into a smirk as the demon turned to face Aziraphale, shirt twisting around his midriff in a positively obscene manner, thought the angel. “Almost thought you had forgotten about that,” teased Crowley, and Aziraphale took the bait, “You thought I forgot about lunch?” Crowley arched one eyebrow over his impossibly dark sunglasses, “You seemed very absorbed in your thoughts.”

Aziraphale beat back what he wanted to say and smiled brightly, “Just enjoying the view.” Crowley’s other eyebrow joined its mirror high on his forehead as he inched his thigh closer to Aziraphale’s knee, “Hmmm.” Aziraphale felt his mouth dry and dug his fingers into his thighs, “How about the Chinese place across from the bookshop?”

Crowley shrugged as he stood up, “Wherever you’d like, angel.” Aziraphale exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding and followed Crowley off of the bench, falling into the languid pace they were growing accustomed to with the weight of their respective head offices gone. Crowley walked without looking at Aziraphale, eyes scanning their surroundings nonchalantly, while Aziraphale found himself stealing glances at the demon. The exchange from the park bench was nothing new, but the growing tension in both of their responses was beginning to give the angel anxiety.

Crowley hummed as they passed a couple holding hands, his own hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. Aziraphale clasped his own hands behind his back as they approached the restaurant, slowing his pace to let Crowley reach the door first. “After you, angel,” Crowley purred, propping the door open with his foot. Aziraphale flashed him a genuine smile and reveled in the way Crowley seemed to short-circuit, like he had every time before for millennia. They were seated and ordered with little thought, the waitress giving Aziraphale a knowing smile as she collected their menus.

Crowley slung his arm over the back of his chair but seemed to think better of it and curled forward to lean over the table towards Aziraphale. “Angel,” he started but stopped, tapping his heel on the floor nervously. Aziraphale felt his heart beating in his throat but forced himself to reply, “Is there something you want to say, dear?” Crowley growled under his breath and Aziraphale ignored the heat that flashed through his cheeks at that. The tapping continued, “Look, I just- bloody Hell, what are we doing, Aziraphale?”

Aziraphale pretended to be very interested in his chopsticks, “We’re having lunch, Crowley.” Crowley scoffed, “We’ve been having lunch every day for six months, and before this we danced around meals for hundreds of years. What I meant is, what do you think is happening?” He sounded truly agitated and Aziraphale looked up, Crowley had let his glasses slide down his nose just enough for Aziraphale to see the yellow of the demon’s eyes. “I think we’re going on-” started Aziraphale earnestly.

Two plates were set down in front of them, making them both jump back. The waitress slid away before they could say anything, aware she had interrupted something important. Crowley exhaled and Aziraphale hummed as he selected a piece of chicken. “How can you be so casual?” hissed Crowley, like Aziraphale wasn’t quaking internally at the thought of where this conversation could go. “I love you.” That made Aziraphale set his chopsticks down and stare at the demon across the table.

“I love you too, Crowley,” He didn’t try to stop himself from sounding slightly put out, “I thought that was obvious by now.” Crowley looked like Aziraphale had smacked him and he began opening and closing his mouth rather like a fish. “Obvious? Obvi- How? How was it- you?” Crowley was now a lovely shade of pink, hands clamped onto the edge of the table. “Well, of course. Why do you think we’ve been going on dates?” Aziraphale made his voice sound much more relaxed than he felt, but his heart was soaring that he had caught Crowley so off-guard. Crowley’s ears flushed bright red as he choked, “_Dates???_”

“What did you think all of this was?” Aziraphale smiled as he picked his chopsticks back up, Crowley’s eyes darting between his face and his hands. “Angel, I’ve been trying for decades, centuries, you never noticed my-“ Aziraphale laughed cheerfully and interrupted, “Oh, I noticed. Temptation accomplished, my dear.” Crowley sat back heavily in his chair, like he had never considered the possibility that his efforts had, in fact, worked.

“Wait, _temptation_?” Crowley said incredulously, like he had just heard Aziraphale’s words. It was Aziraphale’s turn to stammer, “Well, I just assumed, you always looked like…” Crowley gleefully leaned forward again, “Like what, angel?” Aziraphale busied himself with picking out another piece of chicken, “Well, you know. Tempting.” Crowley reached across the table and grabbed Aziraphale’s free hand, his slow smile reaching his eyes, “Not quite accomplished yet, then.”

Aziraphale swallowed and tried to ignore the heat in his lower belly, but he knew the flush on his cheeks was betraying him, “I suppose not.” Crowley’s hand slid off of his as he paused, then spoke again softly, “We’ll move on your terms, angel, if it’s too fast-“ Aziraphale looked up sharply and Crowley sucked in a breath before throwing a wad of bills on the table between them. They stood up at the same time and moved towards the door without breaking eye contact until they stood on the corner opposite of the bookshop.

Aziraphale liked to pretend that, as an Angel, he could only feel Love and all similar emotions. Likewise, he convinced himself that Crowley could only feel Lust and all of its associated sins. Up until the moment Crowley said his own words back to him in a restaurant conveniently close to the place he considered home, Aziraphale believed this so firmly it might have well been a universal truth. However, the inescapable truth was ineffable, but one might say that angels and demons were made from the same stock.

This point became quite clear in Aziraphale’s mind when his desire for Crowley overthrew whatever pointless shame Gabriel had beaten into him. This happened to be the precise moment that he realized Crowley was willing to wait another six thousand years to touch him if it made Aziraphale comfortable. The angel had never wanted to know what the apple tasted like so badly before.

Crowley had never seen Aziraphale look so sinfully needy as the bookstore doors slammed behind them, and it clearly delighted him. Aziraphale knew this, but he still felt incredibly desperate as he ran his hands down Crowley’s shirt, his mind flooding with every debauched thought he had since meeting the serpent on the wall. Crowley tilted his chin up with one hand and Aziraphale leaned into him, deepening the kiss before Crowley could even relax into it.

Crowley moaned under his lips and hands, melting between Aziraphale and the table at his back. Aziraphale felt his breath catch and he pushed Crowley further into the store, past the sofas of a hundred drunken nights. Crowley hesitated at the door to Aziraphale’s apartment and Aziraphale took the opportunity to press against his back, kissing the nape of the demon’s neck just to feel him shiver beneath Aziraphale’s hands on his waist. Crowley made a small noise but Aziraphale guided him further into the apartment before he could speak.

Crowley finally pushed back against Aziraphale’s gentle hands on his hips when they reached the circular rug in the living room. Aziraphale let him turn around before pulling the shirt over his head, Crowley’s yelp making him smile into the kisses he was already pressing to bare skin. Crowley breathlessly moved to undo the buttons of Aziraphale’s waistcoat, thin hands sliding under layers to push them over the angel’s shoulders. Aziraphale’s hands deftly pushed down the skintight jeans and Crowley shivered, goosebumps racing down his arms. Aziraphale waved carelessly behind them and the fireplace snapped to life with a pile blankets warming before it.

Crowley smirked into their next kiss before tilting his head back for Aziraphale to nip down his neck, “Ah, impatient, angel?” Aziraphale hummed as he paused to suck a bruise into a thin collarbone, mentally cataloguing what made Crowley gasp and roll his sinuous hips. Which was everything Aziraphale did, apparently. Aziraphale gently slid one hand into Crowley’s silky boxers, making the demon whine and claw at his chest. Crowley’s stiff cock was already leaking precum and Aziraphale groaned as his own member twitched at the weight of warm skin in his palm.

Crowley shimmied out of his jeans and boxers while thrusting up into Aziraphale’s loose hand, breathing heavily, “M’not going to last, Zira,” Aziraphale smiled at the pet name and let his tongue slide across Crowley’s lips as he pushed down on his hips to guide him to the floor, bending to follow him. Crowley sank down without complaint, kissing back enthusiastically until his knees hit the floor. Aziraphale straightened up and ran his thumb along Crowley’s reddened lips, gasping when the demon sucked the finger into his mouth. Crowley’s thin tongue wrapped around his thumb and Aziraphale’s hips thrust forward on their own, his other hand settling in auburn curls as an anchor. Crowley made short work of Aziraphale’s pants and plain white underwear, moaning at the thick cock that bobbed in his face. Aziraphale stepped forward out of the last offending article of clothing and Crowley eagerly swallowed his cock, yellow eyes closing in pleasure when Aziraphale tugged both hands into his short hair.

Aziraphale moaned loudly when Crowley swirled his tongue around his member, feeling himself blush at how shameless he sounded. Crowley pulled back to pant, “Zira please, I want you,” and Aziraphale found himself on his knees in front of Crowley, kissing him almost painfully hard. They tumbled over, Aziraphale parting Crowley’s thighs as the demon sprawled beneath him on the now heated tartan blankets. They both groaned at the contact, the overwhelming slide of warm skin on skin. Crowley snuck a hand between them to position Aziraphale between his legs, but Aziraphale kissed him and slid a miraculously slick finger down first. Crowley whined in desperation as Aziraphale worked him open, adding a second finger as Crowley drug nails across his back.

Aziraphale fought his desires and pulled his hand away after drawing two fingers across Crowley’s prostate to watch him helplessly spill a litany of praise and promises of nothing in particular. The loss of sensation had Crowley sobbing and Aziraphale took a deep breath, trying to gain some clarity to miracle more lube. “Oh, Z-Zira, _please_ fuck me!” cried Crowley when Aziraphale finally pressed into him, the slow slide torture as both parties struggled to keep their waning self-control.

Aziraphale was panting when he finally pushed all the way into Crowley, arms shaking on either side of Crowley’s chest. Crowley’s nails bit into his back again and he whimpered, then he felt Crowley shift beneath him and ankles press into his lower back. “Oh, fuck,” murmured Aziraphale and gave in. He pulled out of Crowley and pushed back in one swift motion, startling an involuntary cry from the beautiful creature beneath him. Crowley tried to cover his own mouth but Aziraphale caught his wrist and pinned both hands to the floor, continuing his brutal pace with no conscious thought other than his need to hear Crowley’s pleasure.

Crowley tightened his ankles around Aziraphale’s back with each thrust, unable to form any coherent sentences as he was currently being fucked senseless. Aziraphale couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight below, Crowley wordlessly begging for everything he could give him. Who was Aziraphale to deny such a temptation? He sucked a constellation of bruises onto Crowley’s throat, maintaining his wicked tempo as Crowley writhed and twisted his captured wrists.

Aziraphale noted the rise in Crowley’s pitch and pulled enough of himself together to whisper in the demon’s ear, “Come for me, dear heart.” Crowley obeyed enthusiastically, his mouth caught in a perfect circle as his cock twitched between them and ankles dug into Aziraphale’s lower back. Aziraphale bit down hard on the curve of Crowley’s neck as he pushed himself as deep as he could, wings manifesting for balance as he felt himself tipping into bliss.

When Aziraphale came back to his earthly body, he felt his wings curved around something and blearily opened one eye. Crowley was curled into his arms, face buried in Aziraphale’s neck as he snored lightly. Aziraphale pulled his wings closer around them and miracled extra tinder into the blazing fireplace. Crowley murmured something unintelligible and wormed one foot between Aziraphale’s ankles, sighing when Aziraphale pressed a kiss to his temple. “M’ gonna make up for lost time,” the demon grumbled, “Need to do that again.” Aziraphale laughed before kissing Crowley’s temple again, “Of course, my love.” Crowley hid a smile against Aziraphale’s shoulder, “Yeah, love you too, Zira.”

Aziraphale decided the apple was entirely worth it and he would gladly make up for lost time like this.

**Author's Note:**

> *sees two people holding hands* both crowley and aziraphale: FUCK  
[pls come talk 2 me on tumblr](https://keeperofthesourcecode.tumblr.com)


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